


Fall of the Nadir

by Thaliran



Category: Drenai Saga
Genre: Child Death, Death, Fusion, Fusion of harry potter & Abhorsen & Drenai Saga, Genocide, Other, part of a serie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:38:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thaliran/pseuds/Thaliran
Summary: A snapshot of what happen to the Nadir people of the steps. A scene from a larger story i wrote, blending Harry Potter, Abhorsen Trilogy & the Drenai Saga.





	Fall of the Nadir

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer  
> The Nadir and Drenai belong to David Gemmel  
> The Weeper belongs to Gareth Nix  
> The killing curse belongs to J.K. Rowling

She was wandering aimlessly across the steps, the sun shining down, warming the chill morning air. A Light wind came down from the north, bearing with it the sound of people. She started to head towards the people, instinctively knowing they were of her people. She crested a low hill and before her a small clan were waking up. Children ran between the tents, the adults went around their daily tasks smiling, carefree. A youngling with raven black hair was breaking in a horse, she laughs at its antics. A fond smile graced her sad face, she knew it could not last. But how she knew, she did not know. The wind were shifting it no longer blew in her face, it had calmed down, there was an eerie silence, only broken by the sounds of a waking camp. When it picked up again, it came from behind bearing with it the sounds of horses and the clinking of metal. She turned and her blood turned cold, rows upon rows of green clad raiders the banners of Dross Delnock flared in the wind. The sun was reflected on the helmets and the spears, the banners stood stiff in the upcoming wind. The panic was building in her chest as she turned around to warn the clan. When her back was turned and she opened her mouth to shout a warning, a hand clamped over her mouth and a strong arm pined her arms at her side as a voice whispered in her ear,  
''Watch.... this is what awaits your people!'' 

She were crying silent tears, she saw blood and death as the soldiers road into the camp. The clan gathered their weapons trying to protect themself, children using long knives, but they were outnumbered, screams flew up into the sky mixing with berserker laughter and mournful cries. The earth was red with blood, the dead littered the ground. Silence descended on the steps only broken by soft moans of pain from the wounded and dying. The green clad soldiers moved through the battlefield disposing of the dying taking what they desired. Silent tears streaked down her face as she watched the dead. Then she saw him, a tall man in a sky blue robe, shoulder length golden hair, stepping around the bodies without dirtying his robes. She could feel the power radiating around him. When the soldiers saw him they fell on their knees, and stared in awe at him, ''Andromaisas''.  
She recognised that name, anger started to build up in her chest. Andromaisas, high priest of the Source. The man who in his God’s name had concurred the Drenai and the bordering lands, all with their blessings. He who had inflamed the drenai with hatred for her people, it seemed a war was about to break out, and she would not be there to help them. A high keening cry forced its way out of her mouth and with that she woke up.

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Over the next few weeks she was in a constant state of pain, it became stronger in periods, it was not a physical pain, it was heartache and phantom pains. She watched and felt every death and pain her people suffered. She felt every death as a stroke towards her own heart. Some she felt more than others, people she had known and love were harder than others. She watched her brother die, the image of her people, falling in battle protecting the children of the Green Monkey tribe. She watched Grayham die, her oldest brother’s best friend, the man she loved. He died while giving the Wolverine tribes children time to get into the Mountains of the Moon. There were many others, babies, children, old and young. From the child born yesterday to the man who would die tomorrow. It went on for months, the pain growing every day as tribe after tribe, was destroyed. Her pain came from their deaths, but also from the knowledge that she could do nothing to save her children.

**************************************************************************************

She stood in a great hall, columns rising up creating shadows that danced over the beautiful frescos of past times covering the walls. Windows high up under the roof, letting in the morning sun. She turned towards the great oak doors and saw them blocked by benches and other things. Then, she turned towards the other end of the hall, it was there she saw them. Maybe 40 warriors, and there was children, even less of them. They were the last at the Nadir, children of the steps. One man was sitting on the central throne a 4 year old girl in in his lap. It was her brother Therak, Ar-Khan of the Nadir, their mother standing on his right. The air was silent, they were all waiting. They knew they would not see nightfall. The hall shock, the doors rattle as the drenai tried to force open the door. The doors where strong, but they were not made to withstand a battering ram, it splintered and the drenai marched through. They were met with a volley of arrows. Many fell down, but they were to many, The nadir had started to chant as the doors began to break 

"Nadir we, youth born, bloody letters, axe wielders, victors still''  
It was the old battle chant of the Wolfs Head tribe. The battle was long and bloody, the nadir sold their life, as high as possible, children with long knifes fought along with the warriors they knew what was to happen. Therak moved like a ghost through the fighting, leaving a trail of death in his wake, still he did not come from the fights unscattered. Her mother was fighting with blade and magic, a deathly force surrounded her, but still she fell. She wept when her nice was killed, her knife embedded in the heart of a drenai. At last Therak was the last nadir, standing above the dead body of his daughter. A bloodied blade held in each hand, his raven locks falling in disarray around his tiered face, he was bleeding from many wounds his eyes glowing violet. The fighting had stopped around him, no one wanted to come within reach of the deadly blades. Through the shattered doorway, Andromaisas came walking calmly, his sky blue robes nearly touching the blood cowered ground as he walked straight up to Therak. The drenai closing around them, afraid to come to close. The soldiers was afraid of him, no man should be able to survive what he had done and still stand there defiantly with glowing eyes and a smirk on his face. Andromaisas eyes were cold as ice but a small smile graced his lips 

"So, here it ends Ar-Khan, your people are no more, the Source will prevail forevermore.'' Theraks eyes grew fiercer  
''My people maybe dead Andromaisas, but my sister will bring you down, you will serve us in the afterlife''  
At this Andromaisas laughed with true mirth in his voice he continued  
"Your little Goddess can do nothing, she is already in the Game Masters hands, I think I will remain safe''  
His eyes were sparkling. Theraks eyes grew cold, with lightning striking through them, his gaze were roaming the hall, the pain clear for all to see. For a split second our eyes met. The same cold rage and deep sorrow marked them. With the Solemn promise of revenge. Therak smiled sad, but determined.  
''By Astarael the Weeper, AVADA KADAVRA"  
By the first syllable a faint ringing was heard, growing stronger until the last word was uttered, then it came crashing down as a tidal wave of sound accompanied by green light. Andromaisas grew deathly pale, he grabbed the soldiers closest to him and disappeared before the light touched him. Everyone who could hear sound or see light, died as the mournful tones of the Weeper reached them or the clear green light of the killing curse reached them, the sound penetrated every corner of the fortress and the sound ran out across the steps.

************************************************************************************

She screamed, a high pitched mourning cry filled with pain and longing, it sounded like her still beating heart was ripped out of her chest. Her eyes began to glow violet pure power whirled around her, they could tasted power in the air. The man that held her backed away in fear. The Game Masters looked at each other. Never had they seen anything like this, and it scared them for the first time. She was unaware of everything caught up in the raging pain and sorrow of 2.8 million dead, her power lashed out, violet lightning killed everything it touched. And through everything her pain filed cry sounded through the terrified screams of the Game Masters as they sought to flee dignity forgotten. When there was no one left standing she appeared in the hall of her people, the dead lay scattered and the eerie silence brought her back, and she fell to her knees cradling her brother’s head in her arms as tears began to flow. For a long while her loud sobs where the only sound in the dead land the sky had opened as if trying to wash away what had happened. She sat there for a long time before she silently got to her feet and walked through the doors to watch out over the empty land.

 

The End for now.

 


End file.
